"It is quite possible, monsieur; I may have desired it then; now I feel differently. Am I not at liberty to change my mind?"

"Oh! yes, indeed! absolutely at liberty."

"This Freluchon was your intimate friend, I know, and I do not wish to deprive you of his company."

"Oh! thanks a thousand times, my adored wife! I am deeply sensible of----"

"Don't talk to me like that any more! _Adored wife!_ Anyone would think we were acting a melodrama! Call me madame, and stick to that."

"Very well, I understand, madame--madame--and I will stick to that."

Some days after this conversation, which will give an idea of the kind of happiness which Chamoureau enjoyed since he had ceased to be a widower, he came face to face with Freluchon one morning on the boulevard.

The latter began by laughing in his former friend's face.

"Good-day, Freluchon; what are you laughing at?"

"Parbleu! at your expression--your new rig--your new face--for you have manufactured a new face for yourself with all the rest."

"Freluchon, you see a very happy man."

"No one would think it to see you walk."

"Freluchon, I am married again; the lovely Thelenie has become my wife."

"Aha! so that's what gives you such an idiotic look, is it? I supposed at first that it was the result of your new wealth; but you're married, so there's a double explanation."

"Yes, Freluchon, I am."

"You have been married once already; but you were bent on doing it again, and it was your right."

"Ah! my friend, I am the most fortunate of men!"

"You say that as if you were reciting a fable: 'A crow perched on a tree----'"

"Tell me, Freluchon, why won't you believe that I am happy?"

"Bless my soul! I ask nothing better than to believe it. If it is so, so much the better; but as I know these women, as I know that when they have once found a dupe to cover up their past misconduct, they acquire such authority over him that he becomes a mere n.o.body--an utterly ridiculous person--well, I didn't know that that role would suit you.

But it does suit you, so it's all right, it's your business. March gayly on, my poor Chamoureau, and may----"

"Oh! I beg your pardon--allow me to stop you right there. I must tell you that my name is no longer Chamoureau, or, at least, I no longer answer to that name."

"The deuce! have you taken your wife's name, pray? are you Monsieur Thelenie?"

"No, my name is De Belleville now."

"What does this new farce mean?"

"It means that my wife, my superb wife, cannot endure the name of Chamoureau; it's a weakness of hers, but to be agreeable to her, I have taken the name of the place where I was born--Belleville--and we are known by no other name now--Monsieur and Madame de Belleville."

"Gad! that's another good one! But after all, you may call yourself Romulus if you choose; it's all one to me, absolutely."

"By the way, Freluchon, that isn't all; my wife, who is very affable with me, although----"

"Although it doesn't appear?"

"No, I mean, although--although she doesn't mean to be--has authorized me to invite you and your friend Edmond Didier to come to see us."

"Ha! ha! ha! worse and worse!"

"What's the matter?"

"And it is you whom she selects for such errands?"

"Why not?"

"Poor Chamoureau!"

"De Belleville, I beg you, Freluchon; De Belleville! Don't call me anything else."

"Very well, my dear Seigneur de Belleville--for if you are not yet a seigneur, I am sure that you soon will be----"

"Do you think so?"

"You are well fitted to reach any height--with the help of your wife's _cotillon_."

"What do you mean by her _cotillon_?"

"In other words, her influence. You will thank Madame de Belleville, in my behalf; I do not expect to avail myself of her invitation."

"Why not?"

"As I am very absent-minded, I fear that I might make a mistake, and call her Madame Chamoureau; and I am sure that she would turn me out of doors on the instant."

"What a paltry reason!"

"As for Edmond Didier--oh! that's a different matter. I hardly ever see him now."

"Indeed? have you had a falling out?"

"Not at all; but he is in love, yes, very seriously in love this time; and as his pa.s.sion lies in Ch.e.l.les, he has hired a place in that region and he never stirs from there."

"Ch.e.l.les? I wonder if this pa.s.sion of his can be a lady for whom I bought a little place at Ch.e.l.les in the spring--Madame Dalmont?"

"Precisely; that is to say, it is not Madame Dalmont whom he's in love with, but her young friend, a very pretty girl who lives with her--Mademoiselle Agathe."

"Oh, yes! I remember--a very pretty blonde, that is true. I understand now why he took so much trouble to have that purchase concluded so quickly: Mademoiselle Agathe had already caught his eye."

"Parbleu! when a young man becomes so obliging, so zealous, so eager to make himself useful, you may be sure that love has something to do with it."